


Inscribing on the Skin

by spinningthreads



Category: Ultraman Gaia
Genre: M/M, Writing on Skin, Writing on the Body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 17:58:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17854448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinningthreads/pseuds/spinningthreads
Summary: The first time Katsumi wakes up to it he's not entirely sure what's causing the light touches on his chest and he swats at the source irritably, not even bothering to open his eyes. There's a pause and then it starts again, lower this time and now hedoesopen his eyes, intent on finding out what the hell is going on.Gamu, not surprisingly, is what's going on.





	Inscribing on the Skin

The first time Katsumi wakes up to it he's not entirely sure what's causing the light touches on his chest and he swats at the source irritably, not even bothering to open his eyes. There's a pause and then it starts again, lower this time and now he _does_ open his eyes, intent on finding out what the hell is going on.

Gamu, not surprisingly, is what's going on, first finger of his right hand moving over his stomach, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

"What're you doing?" he demands blearily and Gamu looks up at him in surprise.

"Did I wake you?"

"Yes," he growls. "Answer the question."

Gamu gives him an apologetic smile but doesn't otherwise move, his fingers remaining on Katsumi's stomach. "I was trying to come up with a way to boost the power output on the mainframe without overloading it."

Katsumi thinks back over how the touches had been moving and closes his eyes with groan. "Equations? At this time in the morning?" What time _was_ it, anyway? How could Gamu's brain possibly be functioning this much so early?

"What does the time have to do with anything?" Gamu asks and for once he can't tell if Gamu's being serious or not. Most of the time Gamu's pretty well socialised but other times he can't quite comprehend _why_ other people struggle to understand concepts that seem so basic to him. "If I leave it until later I'll have too much to do to concentrate on it. Look, if we can modify the system to produce--"

"Ah, ah, ah, too early!" he protests. It's too damn early in the morning, if Gamu wants to talk engineering or physics or whatever he'll just have to wait until Katsumi's woken up properly and that's all there is to it. He grumpily goes back to sleep, Gamu still tracing out equations on his skin.

***

It gets to be a regular occurance, waking up in the morning with Gamu writing words and equations over whatever body part is handy and it doesn't even disturb him anymore, which he's thankful for. He's tired of being woken up whenever Gamu has a brainwave and doesn't have anything else to write on.

"My body is not your personal notebook, you know," he mutters one morning, yawning and stretching and earning himself a reproachful look as Gamu's finger gets jerked out of place. It's a good thing Gamu doesn't actually write on him in ink, Katsumi thinks, because otherwise there'd be a long line of blue or black over his ribs right now.

"No, but my computer's over the other side of the room," Gamu points out. "And I'd have to get up to get it."

It's tempting to tell him to just get up then, but Katsumi can't find it in him to actually say it. "You never write anything interesting, anyway," he says instead, grinning at Gamu's indignant scowl. "Just boring equations all the time."

Gamu pokes him in the side and he jerks away with a laugh, swatting back easily. "What would you prefer I wrote, then?" Gamu asks archly and for a moment Katsumi is about to reply with 'Nothing', but then Gamu's grinning and starting to write again, this time moving from Katsumi's collarbone down his chest: _Property of Takayama Gamu_. "Oi!" _Hands off!_

"I am not your personal property!"

"No, but you are fun to write on."

***

It's the end of a long day and Katsumi's glad of the shower, the hot water soothing the aches that come from a god-awful early start and yo-yo-ing in and out of his fighter jet all day. He's ready to call the day quits now and start again in the morning.

There's a muffled splutter behind him and he turns to find the other two members of his team looking embarrassed and awkward. "What?" They give him identical deer-in-the-headlights expressions, shaking their heads hurriedly.

"Nothing," Ogawara says faintly, not meeting his eyes and Kitada nods, pointing sideways at his teammate.

"What he said."

Katsumi glares at them, folding his arms across his chest, relieved that his towel is still secure around his waist. " _What?_ "

Ogawara and Kitada exchange a look that borders on panic and Katsumi waits impatiently for one of them to break. One of them will, he knows, it's just a question of which one. Ogawara cracks first, wincing as he looks over at where Katsumi's still waiting, tapping a foot impatiently against the tiled floor of the locker room. "Um, you have something on your back, Kajio-san."

_Something on his..._ Katsumi frowns, looks over his shoulder and doesn't see anything. He reaches backwards and feels over the skin. There's nothing there either, at least not where he can reach, so he heads over to the mirror on the far wall, turning to see if he can figure out what has Kitada and Ogawara so embarrassed. There, between his shoulderblades and down the upper part of his back, he finds words written in Gamu's messy handwriting. They're in different languages - ten altogether, he recognises kanji, Korean, English, Russian and what he thinks is Arabic - and even if he can't understand most of them it's not hard to realise they all say the same thing. _Mine_.

He slams his hand against the wall, eyes narrowing sharply. "Damn it, Gamu!" he hisses under his breath. The writing is perfectly placed to be just out of his reach and he used god damn permanent marker as well; that wouldn't be coming off any time soon, even if he _could_ reach it. How long had that been there anyway? He stalks back over to his clothes and pulls his t-shirt on roughly, covering the writing from view. Gamu is paying for this when he gets his hands on him.

***

" _'Mine'_?" he demands, finally cornering Gamu in his quarters and prodding him sharply in the chest. "What the _hell_ , Gamu."

Gamu laughs nervously, not even making any attempt at denying it. "You found it then."

"Oh yeah," Katsumi snaps, "I found it alright, Gamu, seeing as you saw fit to write it on me _ten times_."

Gamu blushes and bites his bottom lip. "Um, I'm sorry?"

"You are not," Katsumi growls, poking him in the chest again. " _Ten times_ , Gamu, don't you think that's overkill? I don't even recognise half the languages and I _know_ you don't speak that many."

"Alchemy Stars is international," Gamu mutters. "I... may have called a few people."

"A few," Katsumi says flatly. "You have kanji, English, Russian, is that _Arabic_?"

"Urdu," Gamu corrects. "Um, and French, German, Hangeul, Brazilian Portugese, Czech and Swahili."

Katsumi pinches the bridge of his nose tightly, feeling his head starting to pound. This hadn't just been something random Gamu had done on the spur of the moment, this was something he'd _planned_ and the scale was a little unnerving. "I don't even want to know what you told them," he says. Hopefully not something along the lines of 'Hey, how do you write in 'Mine' in your language? I want to write it on my boyfriend's back in permanent marker so he can't get it off.' "When did you even put it there?"

"Last night," Gamu shrugs. "I was going to do it this morning but I thought you might wake up before I did so last night was better." 

And he had, although that was more because of the emergency wake up call than because he'd actually woken up first. Gamu doesn't look particularly contrite, however and he sighs. " _Ten times?_ " he says again, still boggling over the lengths Gamu had gone to for this. "Wouldn't just one have made your point?"

Gamu pouts at him. "Don't you like it?"

"I have declarations of possession on my back," Katsumi retorts. "In ink that won't come off. What do you _think?_ " Alright, now that he's cooling off a little he does find it kind of hot. But that isn't the point, he reminds himself firmly. He's still pissed that Gamu had done this without even asking him if he minded and what had happened to them trying to be discreet, anyway? Because there's nothing discreet about this at all.

Gamu looks upset now and he winces. He hates seeing that look, it makes him feel like a heel every single time. "I didn't think you'd mind," Gamu says quietly, his shoulders slumping. "I'm sorry." And this time he actually looks like he is. Damn it.

"You should have just asked me first," he mutters, folding his arms with a sigh.

"You would have said no."

"Probably. You still should have asked me first."

"I will next time."

"Next time?"

***

He's right on the verge of sleep when he feels the familiar touch of fingers on his chest and he smiles, his own fingers brushing lightly against Gamu's hair as Gamu writes apologies into his skin.


End file.
